


one more time

by Anonymous



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Can be taken as platonic or romantic, Gen, M/M, Mentions of Blood, it has a happy ending i promise, lowercase is superior, maybe he’s dead maybe he’s not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 04:49:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29961192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Relationships: Zak Ahmed & Darryl Noveschosch
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8
Collections: Anonymous





	one more time

it hurt.

_ “skeppyyy..” bad whispered, gently trekking the damp grass of the forest. it smelled richly of dew, the sun’s rays laid over the areas where the tree’s leaves split to create just a slight crack, yet sunlight poured down it as though it was a canyon. _

_ skeppy, unknowingly to the other, was right at his side but hidden behind the looming oaks with leaves that glimmered with rain drops. crouching to remain obscure, he walked with even more care than the demon did, smirking to the thought of the scare he’d give. _

_ creeping towards him, finding the time was right, his grin widened as every step he made became slightly more audible by the second. all his focus was narrowed down on one thing: making sure he was behind him at all time so he wasn’t caught, his plan spoiled. which, was a careless move; he quickly realized that as a twig he accidentally snapped in half made a noise that was similar to an alarm, making him aware of his presence faster than lightning. _

_ as bad screeched from the sudden movement, he whirled around to face an awkward looking skeppy, who soon was horrified as his features twisted into a blatant expression of absolute anger. yet, in the furious swirl was flecks of joy. _

everyone grieved, everyone gave him pitying looks.

_ skeppy rolled his eyes, “bad i’m fine, it’s not that bad.” he didn’t even really pay attention to the words he spoke, just rather set on getting the fact that he was okay across. maybe also trying to pretend he was okay, too, but that wasn’t the point. _

_ bad glared at him, but left his mouth closed. he was busy bandaging his leg, trying to lessen the unhealthy amounts of blood spilling from the wound. yes, he’d admit that his injury definitely wasn’t okay, but he could handle it fine. bad was supposed to be mining right now, and as much as he seemed to like wasting his time, he really was only joking. every second that passed by only made him want to try harder. _

_ “stop pitying me! i can do it myself, just go mine-“ _

_ “i’m not pitying you! is making sure you don’t die pitying you?!” his outburst didn’t even slow him down, almost even made him bandage his limb quicker. as silence stretched agonizingly between the two, he spat, “that’s what i thought.” _

_ skeppy mumbled a tiny, “i’m sorry.” bad looked up, and with a frustrated huff he smiled. _

_ the birds chirped less, but they still sung. _

it was an explosion that took his world from him.

_ skeppy just wanted to prank bad. _

_ give him a bit of a shock when he comes home, the pressure plate activated and the hiss of the tnt as it nears explosion. the recovery was already planned, and it wasn’t much compared to some of his previous trolls. yet, this also happened to be the first time in a year that he used tnt, and the last time he’d used an explosive so minuscule that the damage caused couldn’t even shake a house. _

_ none of his trolls hurt him, he’d do anything to prevent that. that’s why he specifically designed it so the pressure plate was roughly 20 meters away from the building, camouflaged in the grass. the red stone would travel quickly enough to ensure nothing went wrong.  _

_ he didn’t expect it to go wrong. with a plan that’s only flaws were the slim chance of the explosion being a bit too effective, what could go wrong? _

_ he didn’t anticipate for bad to start shaking at the loud boom, and curl into a ball. skeppy didn’t let him do anything else before rushing over, whispering soothing songs that he knew were his favorites. not even the horrid stench drew him away. _

_ he didn’t question, didn’t mention it at all tomorrow. to him, all it served in his mind was a warning, a lesson. _

he always hated bombs after the incident, always jumped at loud noises.

_ skeppy truly didn’t know how bad dragged him all the way here, all he truly was aware of that they were laying side by side, stargazing; if staring up at the stars with the faintest knowledge of astronomy that only bad knew was considered stargazing, then that was what they were occupied doing. _

_ at first, all the demon could talk about was random stars and constellations he spotted, all with equal enthusiasm. they began to waver though, and now only the distant chirp of crickets was heard. _

_ his gaze slowly wandered to the other, who was still looking up at the sky. well, he hoped so; the lack of a pupil in his white eyes didn’t really help if you were attempting to find the direction he was looking at. his face was frozen into a look of bliss, as though space was ambrosia that he was devouring with glee. his pitch-black skin appeared lighter under the night sky, like the moon’s light differed from the sun’s. _

_ he watched silently, every indication of him meeting his eye took with caution. despite his carefulness, bad smirked which was another way of saying he’d been caught robbing a famous bank and he was going to jail for a lifetime. _

_ “shut up.” skeppy mumbled, embarrassed as he erupted into laughter, the stars long forgotten. yet, they didn’t seem to mind as they, too, smiled at the exchange. _

the flowers he laid at his grave were his favorites, never another flower.

_ “what’s your favorite flower?” bad inquired, out of the blue. skeppy raised an eyebrow, surprised at the sudden question. _

_ rolling his eyes, he responded, “do people even have favorites? except you, of course.” he was ignored, the only acknowledgement the words were given was his narrowed eyes pointed directly at him. _

_ “anyways, mine are sunflowers, purple hyacinths, and blue salvias.” he listed a specific list of flowers, an odd fondness laced into the words, like he’d been reminiscing with an old friend. he was pretty sure he’d never even seen those flowers before and were making things up, but the genuine in his eyes weren’t a glint someone would get as they made blossoms up from the top of their heads. _

_ rather awkwardly, he looked down. the rapid change of mood was a sharp hit, and he was dumbfounded, unsure what to do with it cradling in his arms. “that’s pretty specific.” he shrugged. _

_ “i’ll try to find those for you in the future,” he promised softly, lifting his head to look him in the eye. bad smiled, yet the uncertainty was obvious, lingering under his skin. _

he just wanted to hear his voice one more time.

_ their mining trip had been an absolute failure. _

_ the most they left with was a bit of iron, which could only make a helmet. along with their already horrible morning, a dreadful downpour drenched them on their way home. they were both shivering by their fireplace, miserable, the air chilly. _

_ skeppy, though, saw the frown on bad’s face and a mission formed in his head: get him to laugh. for some reason, all he could think of was even worse pick up lines. well, anything will do. _

_ “are you a black hole? because you only bring me closer.” bad shot him a curious look, which definitely said that he was a psychopath. paying no attention to it, he continued. “i must be an enderman, because i only want to chase you.” a flicker of a smile appeared on his face, and he took that as progress. _

_ “are you food? cause i can’t live without you.” he said, confidence creeping into his tone. “i’ve lost my last name, can i have yours?” he was grinning now. _

_ “your so hot you make even blizzards end.” he smiled as bad giggled, even if it was at him. they were horrible, yes, but they always say it’s the thought that counts. and maybe they aren’t so bad if they can make him smile. _

_ “geppy! those are awful!” he shook his head, laughing. giggling with him, he swore life could never be this perfect. _

maybe if the sunlight poked through the assortments of greens just right, maybe if the birds sung not too much, maybe if those exact soothing words were uttered, maybe if the gazes were caught, maybe if those very colors were painted on the surrounding flowers, and just maybe the pick up lines were that same awful; maybe you could hear his voice.

-

skeppy hummed, strolling the woods they used to roam. his heart still sunk at his name, he still looked down and away if he was mentioned, and maybe he did sometimes cry himself to sleep knowing he was gone, but there was improvements. he talked more, and the sun lit up his tanned skin more often. these daily walks, though, were as important to him as water and food.

he mouthed the lyrics to the song they knew well, occasionally having to choke back tears. once he recovered he carried on, wandering the grounds he knew with familiarity like no other.

snapping out of his thoughts, he realized he’d gone a bit farther. yet he still wanted to continue, didn’t want to leave this happy haven; well, not full on happiness but it still lingered in the oaks and flowers. the sun wasn’t too high for night to be arriving very soon, so with a breath to steady himself, he trekked farther.

he’d never gone here, and it dawned on him like the first few droplets of a thunderstorm. even as thunder boomed threatingly, he didn’t slow down. there was something here, a gut feeling.

he went deeper, and deeper and deeper till fear began to grow inside of his chest. and it bloomed a mighty flower as the loud crack of a branch arose in the quiet atmosphere, startling him. “who’s there?!” he screamed, panicked. he turned around and the way he came from seemed much more longer than he thought it had been. could he run quick enough? he was just about to test that thought as footsteps were placed gently behind them, and then it faded.

looking back hesitantly, he was petrified, rooted to the spot. that wasn’t him.

he’s dead. he’s gone, his remains blown into smithereens. he’s not alive. that’s not- is he hallucinating?

but it seemed so real. his eyes were the same milky white, his brown curls were just a tad longer. he was dirtier and his skin seemed lighter, but it was  _ him _ .

“you’re- you’re not a hallucination..?” he asked, voice shaking as tears grew in his eyes because he was alive and everything was okay. that small nod was all it took for him to launch himself onto the demon, for tears to fall from his shining eyes.

he didn’t ask how and why, because he didn’t care. as long as bad was in his arms and well, he couldn’t ask for anything more.


End file.
